The President's Daughter (Liam Payne) Book 6

Chapter 35

Elodie’s POV

“There you are, I’ve been looking for you for ages,” Lauren says, walking into the gym.

“Here I am,” I say monotonously tugging the gloves off before moving to where I had a water bottle and a towel in the corner.

“I thought you’d be on the bus with Liam.”

“Nope,” I say shortly, taking a drink.

“Well the movie is in an hour. I thought you might want to get ready.” she says.

“I changed my mind. I’m not going,” I tell her.

“What? Why not?” she asks in confusion.

“I just don’t feel like it.”

“You don’t have to be nervous.”

“Why would I be nervous?”

“Well because it’s the first date.”

“It’s not a date,” I say quickly.

“Then there’s nothing to be nervous about.”

“I’m not nervous.”

“So you’ll go then.”

“No, I don’t feel like it.”

“But you wanted to see it didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“And it’s not a date so you’re not nervous.”

“Yes.”

“So there’s no reason not to go.”

“No.”

“Good, then lets go upstairs and you can shower and get ready and we can go.”

I open my mouth to respond, but I have no idea what to say, still trying to figure out what had just happened. I snap my mouth shut and nod. We head upstairs and she follows me into my room. I grab a towel and head into the bathroom to shower while she moves to my suitcase and begins rifling through it.

“Ohh these are cute!” I hear her call as I step into the shower.

“What are?”

“These silver heels. Can I borrow them some time?” she calls. “Wait never mind, they don’t fit,” she adds before I can answer. “Jeez, you have small feet.” I don’t respond as she continues going through my bag while I finish my shower.

“You know, Emily helped me get ready for my first date with Louis,” Lauren says as I shut off the water and wrap a towel around myself.

“This isn’t a date,” I repeat stubbornly as I step out of the bathroom to see her laying something onto the bed.

“Of course not,” she says in a tone you’d use to placate a little child. “I thought you might wear this,” she continues, nodding towards the clothes. I skeptically step over to see what she’d picked out. The worst part is, it’s something I’d actually wear. Black jeans, white tank top, heels, and a blazer. The problem was it was too nice. Too obviously something someone would wear on a date. I turn away from it, walking back over to my suitcase and pulling out a pair of worn out jeans, an old tank top and a pullover.

“That works to,” she mutters, half under her breath as I get dressed. I half pay attention as she walks over to the table I’d been sketching at last night and give her a nod when she looks up, telling her it was ok to look through. “So if this isn’t a date, what is going on with you and Liam?” she asks, when I walk into the bathroom to dry my hair.